My heart your heart
by Inadoor
Summary: Rewrite post episode 6. Derek/Stiles. Thoughts are between /, memories in italics. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Stiles knew his relationship with Derek was different than the relationship between Derek and Scott, but he'd always just written it off as being a 'werewolf thing'. Derek and Scott – they had some weird pack/brother thing happening, it wasn't something that Stiles was a part of, even though a part of him longed to be. Secretly he thought that Derek hated him; it sure as hell explained why he was always glaring at him and getting up in his personal space. At this point Stiles figured he had permanent damage from being shoved against lockers and walls, not to mention the times that he had twisted the wrong way trying to dodge Derek's scowling advances.

No – Stiles knew where his relationship with Derek stood and he knew it well. That was, right up until he stood before him in the parking lot of his school and watched the Alpha shove a hand through his chest.

_They had just walked out of the school, smiling and congratulating each other on completing 'mission crazy-ass-awesome howl' when Derek as usual took the time to be a complete downer, _

"_Shut up"_

"_Don't be such a sour wolf" Stiles barked on a laugh._

_Scott placed a restraining arm across Stiles' chest, "What'd you do with him?" he said glancing into the car._

"_What?" Derek replied "I didn't do anything"_

_Then there was only a river of blood and the look of shock in Derek's eyes as they looked up and met Stiles for a brief moment. Pain screeched through Stiles' body as he felt the Alpha's claws rip through layers of protective muscle and into something far softer and unthinkable. He cried out and doubled over clutching his abdomen in pain even as Scott turned and dragged him into the school. Inside his chest, his heart felt like it was breaking. _

Stiles still remembered the pain, the fear and the shock of what he had seen and experienced that night. The pain had faded as he ran, as the adrenaline coursed through his body. He had more immediate problems to deal with that night, such as rampaging Alpha's and asshole jocks. He didn't have the time to think about what was going on in his own screwed up body.

That night though, when Stiles was home and the Sherriff had gone back to the scene he had plenty of time. Laying in the dark on his bed, staring at the ceiling and knowing sleep wasn't going to come, Stiles' thought's turned once more to Derek.

Pale green eyes, thick black hair, smooth marble skin… gone.

His thought's surprised him, shocked him even, his chest ached with a familiar feeling of loss; one he hadn't experienced since his Mom had passed away. Was Derek dead? Was he alive? He knew they hadn't found a body. What the hell had happened to him anyway? Stiles had felt what Derek felt – as if it were him and not Derek that were hanging tethered to those claws.

"God! What does it even mean!" Stiles whispered into the warm dark air of his bedroom. He knew one thing for certain – sleep wouldn't come until he knew for sure what was going on. He moved slowly, heaving his tired body up and out of bed, he threw on a t-shirt and yanked up a pair of jeans. Shuffling down the stairs he grabbed the keys to his jeep and headed out into the night.

He was a man on a mission – he was going to find Derek.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The jeep rolled quietly out of the driveway in neutral, the last thing Stiles needed was a nosy neighbour reporting him to his Dad. Overhead the moon was clouded over and the sky cast a dark pall across the streets, it would rain. He had a moment of thought for his dad's investigation but in the end decided it was better this way, for Derek's sake and his own. The road leading to the old Hale home twisted and turned before him as he set upon it, his thoughts turning with it.

/Where was Derek?

What condition would he be in if he were alive?

What was Stiles even doing looking for him? What would he do if he found him?

Would the Alpha find him first?/

He was at a loss. In a burst of frustration he turned the radio on, and the sudden sound filled the car to bursting. Stiles let it wash over him; he knew this song, it had been a constant on his playlist ever since his mother had died.

"The moment I said it  
>The moment I opened my mouth<br>Lead in your eyelids  
>Bulldozed the life out of me…"<p>

_/The look in Derek's eyes when he's trying to intimidate Stiles, so different than the look he get's when he's actually angry./ _He shifts gears, eyes searching the road before him automatically, unseeing.

"…I know what you're thinking  
>But darling you're not thinking straight<br>Suddenly things just happen we can't explain…"

/_The look of horror on that all too familiar face as Derek realises that the Alpha has him in his grip, that he is helpless, that's he is finished./ _Stiles hand smashes down, too hard, on the steering wheel. He barely notices.

"…It's not even light out  
>But you've somewhere to be<br>No hesitation  
>No I've never seen you like this<br>And I don't like it  
>I don't like it<br>I don't like it at all…"

_/Derek's hand against his chest/ _

_/the firm grip of large solid hands on his shoulders/ _

_/intense desperate blue eyes staring from beneath a too pale pallor/_

"…Just put back the car keys  
>Or somebody's gonna get hurt<br>Who are you calling at this hour?  
>Sit down, come round, I need you now<br>We'll work it all out together  
>But we're getting nowhere tonight<br>Now sleep, I promise it'll all seem better  
>Somehow in time…" <p>

_/too many nights spent laying in bed worrying about werewolves and hunters, about friends leaving you behind, and girls ignoring you. Somewhere in a lesser acknowledged corner, sneaking into consciousness, calm green eyes and bright blue stares/ _

"…It's not even light out  
>Suddenly (suddenly) oh, you've somewhere to be<br>With no hesitation  
>Oh, I've never seen you like this<br>You're scaring me  
>You're scaring me<br>You're scaring me to death…" 

_/the first time Derek smiles at Stiles' and Stiles is sure it's a mistake. A smile passed from Scott carelessly to his goofy best friend. He ignores the way it makes his heart beat faster/ _

The jeep screeches into the driveway of the burned out mansion, brakes slammed on.

_/the first time Stiles' walked through these woods with Scott, searching for the older man/_

"…Don't…ohh (smash)  
>Please don't…ohh (and a-[please] nother one)<br>Don't…ohh (smash)  
>Please don't…ohh (and a-[please] nother one)…"<p>

Sitting in the dark of his jeep with head in hands, palms rubbing eyes rimmed in red and bruised with worry. _/Scott dragging him into the school, and the knowledge deep inside that terrified him beyond words. How his heart was feeling as though it had shattered into shards of brittle, worthless glass. The look on Scott's face, the fear and expectation, and the shame in knowing that despite fifteen years of friendship - he wanted to be out there with Derek./_

"…I'm losing you, I'm losing you  
>Trust me on this one<br>I've got a bad feeling…"

Hand on the door handle and he's tumbling out of the jeep, keys still in the admission. Rushing towards the dark shape of the Camaro where it sit's haphazardly in the drive. _/how he'd waited with his father and Scott at the school that very evening until the deputies had searched the grounds. How relieved he'd been to hear they came back empty handed/_

"…Trust me on this one  
>You're gonna throw it all away<br>With no hesitation…" 

He rounds the Camaro, seeing the driver's side door open but no one inside. /_the thought that Derek was dead/ _His hands fly to his head, running through his hair. He glances around almost desperately, "Derek?"

Then a glimpse of a form, a trail of blood through the leaves, a body lying on the ground in front of the car.

"Derek!"

He runs forward and throws himself to the ground beside him, hands hovering over his body, unsure of what to do. The fear that he hadn't made it in time flashes through his mind, the absolute terror of placing a tentative hand on his back and not feeling anything.

The simple relief when Derek inhales.

"…(Smash)…" 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Relief and adrenaline crashing through his system, Stiles rolls Derek onto his back. Hesitating only briefly before hooking his arms under Derek's armpits and hauling him towards the relative safety of his mansion.

/So much blood…/

Each stair causes Stiles to flinch and he curses his own smaller frame, wishing he could just pick Derek up and carry him in. He releases him gently on the front stoop to open the door and hastily clear away broken glass and other debris lying in his intended path. Half way up the main stairwell and Stiles is gasping for breath, terrified that Derek hasn't reacted at all to the harsh treatment. "God, if we get through this I am never going to complain about you being a jerk again…."another heave, "or coach making me do laps… and what have you been eating anyway?"

/Just be okay/

By the time he reaches the top of the stairwell he is drenched in sweat and praying to every higher power he can think of that Derek's bedroom actually turns out to be upstairs. Two doors down the hallway and he comes upon an old army cot and a ratty comforter "Good enough".

Balancing the cot to avoid tipping it while hauling Derek's unconscious form onto it is harder than he imagined, it takes three tries before he is successful. He falls to the floor, back against the cot, breath coming in pants, chest heaving, arms propped on upraised knees and head hanging down.

/Derek is alive. He is safe… finally/

He turns himself slowly around and stares at Derek's slowly moving chest. Each breath feels like a miracle to him, it refreshes his tired body. The events of the night seem less somehow in comparison to each breath struggling forth from those lips.

Minutes pass before Stiles is able to tear his eyes away from the form in front of him. He stands shakily and stumbles out of the room and down the stairs towards the jeep, a part of him finally grateful that his father had insisted on a first aid kit. His own laughter shocks him, "I kind of doubt you had this in mind dad…." Come to think of it he hadn't had this in mind either. He grabs the kit from its spot under the dash and reaches across the seat for the keys, still sitting in the ignition. The sudden silence is surprising; how absorbed had he been that he hadn't even noticed the jeep's alarm?

/Hold it together Stiles/

"Great… because nothing screams come eat me I'm alone and defenceless than a car alarm blaring in the middle of the woods…" Knowing his luck the alpha would show any minute. He jogged back into the house and up the decrepit stairs, phone in hand, texting Scott as he moved 'all good?'. The reply came just as he turned into Derek's room, 'fine -go to sleep stiles'. Stiles rolled his eyes, /if only/ and discarded his jacket in the corner of the room, phone following its path moments later. Kneeling down by the cot he carefully cut away Derek's shirt using the safety scissors from the kit, and finally getting a good look at the wounds caused him to sway back onto his heels.

/oh god it's bad/, a deep breath, /hold it together Stiles!/

It seemed like hours passed as he gently cleaned away clotted blood and assorted foreign bodies that had lodged themselves in the claw marks. /not claw marks really/ another swipe, /holes actually, or punctures…/, more blood /don't go there/. Applying antibiotic cream seemed kind of silly all things considered, but he did it dutifully, for no other reason than it made him feel better. Layers of gauze pads and wraps were applied methodically until Derek faintly resembled a mummy, and then finally, finally it was over.

Sweat ran down Stiles face in rivulets and all of a sudden he became aware of his roiling stomach. He barely had time to turn away before he was heaving into the hallway, emptying his stomach contents until he had nothing left. Shaking he turned back to the room, and Derek. He was exhausted, could barely stand to walk over and pull the comforter up Derek's still /so still/ body. Falling to the ground hard he sat with his forearms leaning on the cot, eyes trained and mind focused solely on the rise and fall of Derek's chest, until finally there was only darkness.

It felt as though only seconds had passed when Stiles is awakened by the familiar chirping of his cell phone, but when his eyes reopen light is starting to shine through broken glass.

/broken glass?/

It takes a minute but then the events of the previous night are rushing back to him, all the pain, the fear, the loss. His body aches from his position, half sitting half leaning on the old cot and he groans as he raises his hand to his head to rub at his hair. He takes in the sight in front of him, reaching out tentatively once more to feel the rise and fall of Derek's chest. Something is different; unlike last night his touch is met with a sudden tension in the body in front of him. With trepidation he follows the line of the cot up to Derek's face, to Derek's bright blue eyes and look of confusion.

"Stiles?"

/Derek./


	4. Chapter 4

First off thank you so much for your feedback! It made me very happy :) Also, in the world I'm creating here the jeep can magically re-grow batteries any time it needs too (aka, I totally forgot that the alpha had destroyed the jeep when I wrote this) lol! Love it! Hope you all enjoy this one as well!

Chapter 4

**Stiles POV**

Stiles stares at Derek without answering, watching as his eyes shift from that shocking shade of blue into a calmer green. His skin is pale, paler than usual /he must still be healing/. Just as the thought crosses his mind Derek pales that impossible bit further and slumps back towards the cot.

"Easy there big guy!" Stiles exclaims as he reaches out to help Derek lower himself into a laying position. He ignores the low growl and peculiar look from Derek when he wraps his arm under the larger mans shoulders.

Once more situated on the cot, Derek demands, "What happened last night?"

"What do you remember?"

"That isn't an answer Stilinsky - what happened?"

"The alpha – well you were – he got you. Then he chased us into the school, killed the janitor, tried to kill us and ran off." Stiles replies, carefully avoiding eye contact as he does so.

"Ran off?" Derek mouths sceptically, "And that's it?"

"Mostly" Stiles says, knowing even as the words leave his mouth that Derek knows it isn't the whole truth.

**Derek POV**

He knows Stiles is holding something back, and he curses his healing body that he doesn't have the energy to pursue it. The younger man's body language is off; he looks distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation but at the same time seems surprisingly comfortable with his proximity to the werewolf in front of him. Derek files this away for later, and takes stock of the immediate situation. Glancing down he notes the patchwork of bandages across his abdomen, held together mostly by tape and luck. He isn't sure how they got there but he has a strange suspicion that he should be grateful to the boy in front of him.

/What happened last night?/, he takes a deep breath and brings his hands up to rub at tired eyes, /Why is he even here?/.

He opens his eyes slowly; levelling what he hopes is an even stare in the other boy's direction, "What are you doing here Stiles?"

Wide brown eyes stare back at him, and he watches for seconds as Stiles starts working his mouth like a fish before the inevitable barrage of words start pouring out.

"I… you were… I couldn't sleep – and I thought you might need help… and you did! Look at you – you can barely sit up!" arms clad in Stiles typical plaid gesticulate wildly.

"Stiles –" Derek tries.

"What were you going to do? Bleed to death on the ground by yourself? I mean… sure if that's what your goal is but somehow…." He isn't even looking at Derek now; eyes glazed and focused a thousand miles away.

"STILES –", he tries again.

"I doubt that… plus you would never have gotten up those stairs… and do you even have running water in this place? Cause' I'll tell you, you needed it…"

"STILINSKY!"

Sheepish eyes return to his, "…yeah?"

"Do you even breathe? Nevermind!" Derek says, holding up a hand to forestall the answer, and he has to remind himself to /breathe - breathe Derek, the kid helped you/.

He raises himself up onto his elbow once more, and in a voice full of exhaustion and pain, asks again, "Stiles – what are you doing here?"

**Scott POV**

_Scott gave up sleeping around five that morning after tossing and turning for what had seemed like, and probably in reality was, hours. He couldn't shake the events of the night before, first the alpha and then Allison. _

_/Oh God Allison/, his heart fell; she had broken up with him. _

_Groaning he rolled over and grabbed his phone off the shelf next to his bed. No new messages. /Of course/. Well since he wasn't sleeping he figured no one else should have the luxury. He started dialing the familiar number before he even consciously thought about it; Stiles' always had his phone on. _

**Stiles POV**

He can feel the blush rising to his cheeks as Derek interrupts him, barking his name, "STILINSKY!"

/Oh god he must think I'm an idiot/ /… more of an idiot that is/, he dares a glance, "… yeah?"

"Do you even breathe? Nevermind!", he raises his hand to prevent Stiles from answering. "Stiles – what are you doing here?"

The thing is – Stiles doesn't really know. Sure he's found himself thinking about Derek a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and sure he and Derek had had some freaky transference thing back at the school. However, being suddenly faced with an intimidating look and direct questioning from the object of said transference, he finds himself at a loss for words. Luckily he's prevented from having to answer when a familiar voice rings out from behind him.

"Yeah Stiles – what _are_ you doing here?" Scott asks, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. /so maybe not as lucky as he originally thought./

Steeling himself for a fight Stiles speaks up, "What is with you guys? I was helping, h-e-l-p-i-n-g. Jeez, you'd think I had kicked a puppy or something."

Scott at least has the decency to look guilty, while Derek just looks more confused than anything else. "Sorry dude, you just had me freaked out. I went by your place and your Dad was flipping out – he said you weren't home when he got back this morning."

/Dad… crap!/ "Oh man he's going to kill me!" he says as he starts scrambling to his feet.

Scott moves farther into the room and grabs Stiles' shoulder to steady him, "We've got bigger problems than that right now."

"Bigger problems than being stuck sleeping in a jail cell every night for the rest of my natural life?" Stiles exclaims, and is surprised when Derek is the one who answers him, head cocked to the side with eyes blue focused far away.

"Much bigger."

**Scott POV**

_After listening to Stiles' answering machine message fifteen times he decided he was justified in starting to worry. With little thought he threw on a sweater and made his way quietly outside. Hopping on his bike he began the short ride to the Stilinsky residence. _

_When he got there he wasn't overly surprised to find the Sherriff in the driveway, juggling various papers and a coffee cup, phone to ear. "… look, call them back. I'm going to try his cell one more time and then I'm on my way." Sherriff Stilinsky looks up quickly when Scott approaches, hanging the phone up. "Scott – have you heard from Stiles? He wasn't here when I got in this morning?"._

_Scott thinks quickly, anything is going to sound better than 'no and there's a crazy werewolf running around loose with his scent, but don't worry, I'm sure he's fine'. He clears his throat, "Yeah neither of us could sleep after last night. He was over at my place playing x-box, he passed out on my bed about half an hour ago. I figured some exercise might knock me out."_

"_He hasn't been answering my calls" the Sheriff states, and is that suspicion in his eyes?_

"_I think his phone died around three" Scott replies. _

"_Thank god, when I get a hold of that kid I'm going to tie his cell phone charger to his wrist." The Sherriff replies looking distinctly calmer. "Well when he wakes up tell him I'm not going to be home for awhile… excuse me." He turns to answer the ringing of his cell phone once more and Scott waves goodbye. _

_As he turns his bike back towards the road Scott overhears the voice on the other end of the phone talking excitedly "…got the warrant for the Hale house." and Sherriff Stilinsky's response as he waves absently in Scott's direction. _

"_Good work, I'll meet you at the station, call the boys in."_

_/Crap./_

**Derek POV**

Listening to Scott and Stiles back and forth is as amusing as always, which is to say, not a lot. Pinned to his bed by his own injuries while they are talking over him is not a place he ever wanted to be, he is trapped with no chance of escape.

/God what did I do to deserve this?/ he thinks, ironically.

When he takes a moment to observe he notices the change in the way Stiles holds him self when Scott is around, almost as if he's afraid Scott will look at him too closely.

/Why was he more relaxed with me?/

He doesn't have time to pursue the thought before his attention is captured by the sound of cars approaching in the distance. The noise these cars make is familiar to him, he has heard them approach his home before; squad cars.

He is interrupted from these thoughts by Stiles voice, "Bigger problems than being stuck sleeping in a jail cell every night for the rest of my natural life?"

"Much bigger." Derek replies. /Much, much bigger/.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Stiles POV

Stiles watches as Scott cocks his head quickly to the side, then turns to look at Derek, "We have to move, now!"

"What's going on?" Stiles exclaims.

"Cops – we need to go!" Scott replies, already moving towards the cot.

Slowly, like a predator contemplating his prey, Derek turns to face them, "Does someone want to explain to me why the police are practically on my doorstep?"

Stiles glances at Scott who looks back with equally wide eyes, stalled where he stands a foot away from the cot. /crap… we are in so much trouble/. Scott stutters over an answer, "Well there was this… you see… ummmm a little help here buddy?"

"Someone may have…accidentally that is…sort of…toldmydadyouwerethemurderer…." Stiles blurts on a breath.

"You… WHAT?" Derek bellows, trying to climb out of his reclining position "I swear to god I'm going to kill you two idiots!"

"Don't look at me! I'm innocent in all of this!" Stiles rushes to get out, hands raised in defence.

"Scott!" Derek turns, eyes changing, teeth bared. Stiles reflects that it was probably supposed to be scary, the effect ruined by the bedhead and mass of bandages adorning his chest. /heh… /.

"Whatever - we don't have time for this! We need to move, growl at me later!" Scott scoops an arm under Derek's armpit and pulls him to his feet. Stiles watches the flinch of pain and winces in sympathy as it echoes to lance through his own side. His arm wraps around his abdomen and he sucks in a breath, /oh god…again?…got to move/. With adrenaline born from the shock of pain Stiles takes up Derek's other arm and helps Scott half drag, half carry him to the stairs. That's when he hears the sound of car doors closing softly, of booted feet on old wood. Through broken window frames and cracked glass he watches the approach of shadows, they're here.

"Back... there's a fire escape" Derek wheezes on a breath, weight sagging between them. He must have been worse off than Stiles had thought this morning to react like this to movement. He had to get him out of here.

Taking a deep breath Stiles replies, "You take him, I'll go get in the way."

Scott gives him a look, "What? Stiles you could get hurt – they might shoot you by accident or something."

"It's alright; they already think I'm around here somewhere. The jeep isn't exactly hidden" he says. He takes a breath and looks at Derek, eyes catching his. Derek hasn't said anything but he stares at Stiles in an assessing way, as if he's a puzzle that he can't figure out.

"Move!" Stiles says, pushing them towards the back of the house and taking off down the stairs. He hasn't even reached the ground yet when the door flies open and he's face to face with a half dozen guns pointed in his direction.

Derek POV

Derek watches as Stiles glances frantically around before settling a determined gaze on Scott. "It's alright; they already think I'm around here somewhere. The jeep isn't exactly hidden" he blurts, eyes finally moving to meet Derek's own. Derek thinks, /what is he looking for?/ for just a second before, /oh!/ and /oh…/. There's something there, something in that boys eyes that clicks.

_Earlier, Derek wincing with pain at Scott's rough grip. Stiles grabbing his own abdomen in sympathy. _/sympathy?/

/it had to be…unless… no it's not possible/ and then Stiles is gone moving down the stairs with a shove to Scott and a "Move!" thrown over his shoulder. Derek doesn't have time to think let alone speak before Scott is dragging him towards the back of the house and the fire escape. Behind them he can hear the door break open and several exclamations of warning from the police. He prays, even as he is pulled forward, that that kid /Stiles…/ has the brains to drop to the floor.

When they reach the back of the house Derek gestures at the charred remains of a back wall. "Out there".

Scott leans him against the least damaged wall and peers out over the edge at the rusty remains of a fire escape, "So do you want to jump or do you want me to carry you?" he asks with a grin.

Derek levels a glare in his direction, "Just go."

"Want me to catch you?" Scott hedges.

"Move Scott!", and he watches as Scott turns to the wall and just leaps up and over the debris. He pushes himself up, arm wrapped tightly around his gut and moves as quickly as he can to the edge. The fire escape doesn't look as if it would hold a child let alone a full grown werewolf, /no wonder he jumped… okay Derek you can do this/. Unfortunately his jump turns out to be more of a fall with his injuries. He releases a grunt as he lands, wincing as pain shoots through his body. He doesn't even have time to think that maybe he should have taken Scott up on his offer, before everything fades into blackness.

Scott POV

Scott stands outside the charred remains of the Hale home, waiting for Derek to choose his route. He probably should have just grabbed him and taken the plunge because there was no way he was going to make it on that ladder. The older wolf was just stubborn as hell sometimes…

/well all the time really./

He watches as Derek moves to jump and then sort of stumbles and falls towards him. Scott reaches his arms out to catch him, but only manages to soften the blow the ground produces. He winces as Derek grunts in reaction and watches as his eyes roll back into his head. Suddenly things just got more complicated, /and heavier/ his mind produces. Without hesitation he throws the unconscious man over his shoulder and breaks for the woods, hoping all the while that Stiles has things covered inside.

Stiles POV

"Freeze!" "Get down on the ground!" "Move!"

So Stiles does as he's told for once and throws his arms over his head and topples onto his belly, eyes on the upper floor. Rough hands grab at his arms and hold on as others pat him down, /all in all, not really how I pictured this happening…/.

"Stiles Stilinsky that had better not be you!" and he has never been so grateful to hear his Dad's voice.

"What's up pop?" he quips from his place beneath two armed policemen.

"Get off him, let him up" the Sherriff replies on an exasperated sigh, "What the HELL are you doing HERE?"

/Think fast – think fast/ Stiles stalls as the uniforms pull him up off his painful perch on the stairs and rubs at his arms where he had been held. "I wanted to teach this guy a lesson, I mean… he tried to kill us!"

"Stiles – how many times do I have to remind you that I'm the one with the gun, that this is my job. Not yours! It's not safe for you to be doing these things!" he replies, grabbing Stiles biceps and shaking him softly to emphasize the point.

Stiles knows his Dad worries about him, he does, but this is really just the tip of the iceberg here. Suddenly he wishes he could just share everything, tell him all about werewolves and alphas and what really happened that night.

About the confusing rush of blue, blue eyes and pale skin.

Looking up at his fathers concerned face he knows he can't do it, can't burden him with the knowledge. However before he can give it any more thought the pain strikes again, shooting from his abdomen and down every nerve ending in his body. A wave of dizziness hits him and he feels himself sway towards his father.

Scott POV

Scott makes it a few hundred feet into the forest before he realizes he has no idea where to take an injured werewolf. So he starts running through the options in his head. He knows he can't take him home, his mother is just way too attentive for that. Allison's is out of the equation for obvious reasons. The school is too open; the clinic is just a bad idea after the last time.

/Where can I take him that no one is going to think to look for him?/, and then, /got it/.

He starts to run.

Stiles POV

Stiles stumbles forward and has to use his father to steady himself. When he looks up his father's concerned face is very close to his own. "Woah… what happened?" the Sherriff asks, hands already moving to help Stiles steady himself.

"I guess this has all taken more out of me than I thought… I should go sleep it off… the stress that is, not you know, anything else." Stiles blurts as his father stares wide eyed, the shadow of a smirk warring with the worry lining his face.

When he's standing on his own two feet again his father looks him in the eye once more and asks, "Are you okay son?"

"Fine, guess I need more practice facing down an armed squad" he quips.

"Not a chance… are you sure? Maybe we should take you in to get checked out…" the Sherriff replies, hand still braced on Stiles shoulder.

"I'm fine Dad, I just need to sleep – really." Stiles replies, trying his best to look innocent. The wry smile on his fathers face combined with a dismissive head shake reminds him that his father knows the innocent look well. "I'm just going to go home then…" he continues on.

"Sleep Stiles, let me handle the rest – okay?" his Dad says earnestly.

"Sure Dad!" He throws out as he stumbles towards the door and the group of annoyed looking officers, "Hah! Sleep!" he mutters under his breath as he climbs down the front stairs, "What are the chances…"

Scott POV

Scott unceremoniously dumps Derek's unconscious body onto the bed before him, and stands, groaning, to rub his sore shoulders. "What the hell do you eat man?" he mutters under his breath.

He starts to walk away, then feeling a little guilty for his rough treatment turns and goes to help settle Derek in a better position on the bed. He is just pulling his body up the bed when two hands fist themselves in his shirt and he's faced with angry eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Where are we?" Derek growls.

"I'm helping your sorry butt escape, remember?" Scott replies, "Just relax, heal, and DON'T leave this room." Derek loosens his grip and releases him slowly, eyes watching as Scott turns to leave the room. Scott looks back once before closing the door, eyebrows raised as if to emphasize his point. "Stay here."

Scott jogs down the stairs two steps at a time, intent on finding Stiles now that Derek was settled. He makes it to the bottom step just as the front door opens and Stiles walks through. /speak of the devil/ When he sees Scott he startles back and does a double take,

"Scott? What're you doing here? Where's Derek?"

Scott looks back with a sheepish grin, "Upstairs?"

"What? What were you thinking? He can't be here!" Stiles explodes, arms flailing in emphasis as Scott watches. He knew Stiles would react this way, but he would come around, he always did.

"It was the safest place to take him…" he begins, but Stiles already has his back turned to him and is pacing the living room.

"Safe? Safe? How am I going to explain the murderer in my room to my Dad?" he shrieks.

"That's the thing, you can hide him – no one will ever think to look at the Sherriff's house!" Scott replies, tone of voice rising to match Stiles. He watches as Stiles slows his pacing, hands coming up to rub his temples, eyes closed. Scott knows this look well, Stiles is processing.

"Fine… just go before Dad get's home. I'll deal with this... mess" Stiles replies, frustration lacing his tone. Scott feels bad for a second, but only for a second. He believes in his plan, believes it's the best choice, and that ultimately Stiles will understand in the end.

"Just text me later, if you need any help." Scott states as he makes a strategic escape, pretending all the while that he can't hear the disgruntled sigh following him out the door.

Derek POV

Derek watch's Scott's back as he retreats from the room, turning only to re-emphasize his point, "Stay here." Derek rolls his eyes and pulls himself up onto his elbows, taking in the room around him. Gray, gray and more gray, the room screamed of teenage chaos and echoed with years of use. . He inhales deeply, /Stiles/.

Below him he can hear the front door open and close, the sounds of Scott and Stiles frantic discussion. He pushed himself to standing and begins to move around the room, taking in the pictures, the books, scenting here and there. He still doesn't know what's going on with that kid, /with Stiles/.

He has so many unanswered questions.

/What had happened that night? Why had Stiles helped him? What had he seen in those eyes?/

He keeps running over it in his head, the way Stiles has been acting around him, how tense he had turned when Scott arrived. How he had risked his own life to help Derek, twice now. How he had looked at Derek as if he were more than a monster, more than just some guy, like he meant something. How Derek's own pain had been reflected in his eyes. Before this, Stiles hadn't taken much space in Derek's thoughts. He had noticed the boy, sure, he was hard to ignore, but he'd never thought so hard about the different looks his expressive face carried or the way his heart beat changed from calm to worry.

He snorts to himself, frustrated, fisting his hands against the wall and shaking his head; this wasn't helping. His temper was flaring, he didn't like mysteries, and he didn't like feeling out of control.

Derek turns when he hears the door close once more downstairs, and listens as Stiles slowly climbs the stairs. He makes his way toward the bedroom door intent on finding some answers.

Stiles POV

Seconds after opening the bedroom door Stiles feels hands grab his shoulders and slam him into the wall. He squeaks and winces, startled, feeling his heart beat pounding in his ears. When death doesn't immediately come he pries his eyes open and is met with Derek's face, inches away from his own and studying him closely.

Derek stands with one hand around Stiles throat, the other holding his shoulder to the wall. It is a position that screams of intimidation, of danger.

Strangely Stiles feels neither.

Met with those familiar eyes, Stiles pulse slows beneath Derek's restraining hand. He sees it the second it registers, and Derek's hand on his throat relaxes into a gentler hold. Derek's eyes glance down as if to look directly at Stiles heart and ask the question Stiles can read in them. As if catching himself Derek's eyes snap quickly back to his own, and he watches as Derek scents the air, nostrils flaring.

"You smell like fear… and pain." Derek rasps, hand releasing Stiles shoulder and easing down his chest. Eyes glancing down once more, following the trail of his wayward hand as it searches out hidden wounds. "Are you hurt?"

"I… I'm fine" Stiles replies, voice coming as a whisper.

When Derek's gaze returns to his he has moved infinitesimally closer, mere centimetres separating them, and Stiles can't help it. Couldn't fight the temptation if he tried, not standing there with Derek's hand resting on his belly, on his bared neck.

He glances down at those lips for just a second, but it is long enough.

Derek has seen.

The hand around his throat tightens the slightest bit and then relaxes. Green eyes stare intently into his own, warm breath ghosting across his face. Suddenly, and deliberately, Derek moves his body closer pressing against Stiles' and trapping his hand between their bodies. Stiles breath catches in his throat and his mouth opens on a gasp, breath coming in short pants. Derek's nose nudges his own, their breath mingling until Stiles can barely stand it.

It takes a split second for him to decide and then he is tilting his head that tiny bit forward and their lips are brushing gently. Stiles feels his eyes slip closed as their mouths linger, and then Derek is suddenly very much there. Tongue brushing his lips asking Stiles permission before plunging inside and taking. Derek surges against him, an animal force all of his own and Stiles clutches at him pulling him even closer and taking everything he gives. Hands linger on Stiles skin and it strikes him that he has never felt anything like what he is experiencing now, and he can't imagine that anything would ever compare.

Their bodies surge against one another desperately seeking each other out. Derek tastes like black liquorice and pine, flavours mingling and consuming him from the inside out. He can't get enough of him, of his taste, and he pulls him harshly forward against his willing body.

They break apart on a gasp, both of them remembering suddenly, painfully, that Derek was not at full form. His own gasping breath seems to attract Derek's eyes to him once more, and he stands panting, pinned by that gaze. He watches as Derek moves closer to him, eyes on his as he leans forward excruciatingly slowly and finally brushes his lips gently against Stiles' own.

/oh/.


End file.
